“Wrong. We can force the pair to stay put.” Before Legion’s semi-human transformation, Aeron had summoned her from the depths of hell and kept her trapped in a circle of salt and sugar. The mixture blistered demon flesh in ways fire could not. “Galen will revive.” He must. “I’m doing this. Get on board or get out of my way.”
Brave words from a cowardly girl. Still, she stormed past Fox, who—shocker—didn’t try to stop her, and stomped down the hall. In the kitchen, she hunted for a bag of sugar and a container of salt. Only half-filled.
Oh, look. She’d thought half-filled rather than half-empty. That was new. Anyway. Half wouldn’t form a complete circle around Galen, so, she gathered up the garlic salt, celery salt, and soy sauce as well.
“You planning to cook him for dinner after you murder him?” Fox asked.
“Dibs on his liver,” she muttered, then marched down the hall a second time.
As she entered the bedroom, Fox stayed close. Sickness coated the air, stinging her nostrils. Galen writhed on a blood-soaked bed, his wings tangled with the sheets. He coughed and wheezed, crimson droplets spraying from his mouth.
Her chest constricted, guilt prickling the back of her neck once again. She’d let him languish in this condition, doing nothing.
She deserved to suffer like this.
After pouring a complete circle of salt and sugar around his body—yes!—she settled at his side, careful not to disrupt the granules. The heavy odor of garlic made her nose itch.
“Why sugar and salt?” Fox demanded. An obvious default setting.
“You know how some people are allergic to peanuts? Exactly like that, but totally different.” She smoothed a trembling hand over Galen’s brow, brushing back a lock of silver-blond hair. Torment etched his yellowed skin, rousing concern and compassion, overriding every other emotion. “I need a dagger.”
The nausea returned with a vengeance. She hadn’t held a weapon in a very long time. Had never wanted to hold one again. For Galen, though, she would do it. She owed him. But after this they would be even. 100%.
“I hope it goes without saying that I will remove your head if he doesn’t revive,” Fox grated.
She remembered a time when she would have looked at Fox, smiled, and ripped out the other woman’s trachea. Now? She wilted like rose petals in scorching heat. “Threats aren’t helping.”
“I wasn’t threatening.” All rage and apprehension, Fox unsheathed a blade and slapped the hilt into Legion’s upturned palm. “I was explaining the situation.”
“I—I will kill him, and you will revive him. Deal?” Galen…dead…even for a few seconds…
“I have no experience with the latter.”
Tension stole through her, her calm façade cracking. Why did she continue to care about this man? He wasn’t misunderstood; he was bad to the bone. Over the centuries, he’d betrayed his friends, separated a multitude of mates, and harmed even more innocents. Men and women worldwide would rejoice at his death. She would be touted as a hero.
Legion still didn’t know why he wanted her, either, or what he planned to do with her, but it couldn’t be good, right? What if he used her against Aeron and the other Lords? What if he gave her back to Lucifer and collected the bounty on her head? What if he traded her—her life in exchange for a favor? What if he only wanted to punish her for once trying to kill him?
Fear flash-froze her blood. But…what if he’d meant what he’d written in those letters, and he yearned to spend more time with her? Longed to protect her. Because he craved her, body and soul, and hungered for her touch.
Could she touch him again, without remembering the terrible things she’d suffered soon afterward?
She didn’t know, but thought she might maybe probably kinda sorta…want to find out.
A raspy moan slipped from his chapped lips—the death rattle. Running out of time.
“Let me help you, Galen,” she whispered. “Let me ease your pain.”
His lashes fluttered open, his gaze finding her. Recognition brightened in those ocean-water depths, followed by happiness. “You…worth it,” he whispered back.
He found worth in her? Her? She had put the happiness in his eyes?
Her chest clenched. Maybe he did crave her.
“I’m so sorry,” she told him. “For everything I’ve done…and will do.” With a fresh stream of hot tears scorching her cheeks, she placed the tip of the dagger at his heart. Deep breath in…
The happiness vanished. “You…betray?”
CLENCH. “Please understand. There’s no other way to make you better.”
He reached up to clasp her wrist, his grip loose, weak.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, raw and ragged. Do it!
Exhaling, she pushed the blade deep and twisted. He used his final breath to curse her. His head lolled to the side, his eyes staring somewhere beyond her, as if he didn’t want her face to be the last thing he saw.
Galen the Magnificent died exactly as he’d lived: a heartbreaker.
The demons rose from his body, two dark clouds with skeletal faces and neon red eyes. Pure, undiluted hatred emanated from the pair, and she stumbled back.
When the demons scented the salt and sugar, they dove back into Galen to hide.
“Hurry, hurry.” Every second mattered.
Fox swooped in to get to work.
“Heal him.” This time, Legion was the one to issue a demand. “Heal him now.” Or else.
Chapter Five
Galen awoke with a roar of denial brewing at the back of his throat. After centuries of training, he had the wherewithal to cut off the sound before it escaped. No need to alert a nearby foe that he was up and ready to kick ass.
He jolted upright and flared his wings, preparing for flight. A lance of pain heralded a wave of dizziness and hazy vision. Flight proved impossible, and also unnecessary. He thought he might be in his bedroom. The one next to the chamber he’d prepared for Legion’s stay. As he eased back down, he recognized the softness of the mattress and comforter.
Aches and pains plagued his battered body, his muscles screaming in protest. His lungs struggled to inflate, as if the organs had been dipped in wet cement.
What the hell had happened to him? And why did his room smell like a chicken wing buffet?
He blinked rapidly, a wealth of memories taking shape in his head. Multiple battles and injuries. Legion’s rescue. Losing his tongue and tooth—both had grown back. Fox. A portal home. A dagger to the heart?
He did have a slightly warped heartbeat. Frowning, he scrubbed a hand over his sternum. No wound.
When his vision cleared, he gave the room a cursory scan. Yep. His. Except for the blood-soaked dagger resting on the nightstand, nothing had changed since his last visit.
That dagger solidified his suspicion. He had been stabbed. Who would dare—
The memory crystalized, and he growled. Legion had wielded the weapon.
The object of his obsession had tried to kill him. Again! She had apologized and cried, but she hadn’t stopped driving that dagger into his heart.
Darkness had enveloped his mind, so much darkness, and he’d seemed to fall, fall into an endless abyss. Then lights had flashed and Fox had screamed from far away. Come back to me, or I’ll kill Legion. I swear I will.
He remembered what felt like a hammer beating on his chest. Remembered Legion begging Fox to hurry and revive him.
There’s no other way to make you better. I’m sorry.
As Legion’s final words drifted through his head, his anger eased. In her tone, he detected genuine remorse, agony, and determination. So the girl who usually vomited at the sight of blood had killed him, yes, but she hadn’t wanted him to stay dead.
Ding, ding, ding. Another detail surfaced. Fox had jabbered about his death deactivating some kind of poison. An interesting development. If Legion had truly reviled him, she would have let him die for real, forever. But she hadn’t.
Hope bloomed bright, s
hiny, and exquisite. She’d gone to a lot of trouble to save him. Because she cared about him.
Or because False Hope had made her want something from him?
You are the reason I can’t have nice things, he spat at the fiend.
Gleeful laughter echoed, and yeah, Galen wanted to punch a hole in his skull.
Where had Legion gone? Now that he was on the mend, they needed to chat about the present and the future.
A strangled sound assailed his ears. He went still and quiet, casting his gaze around the room a second time. There, behind the headboard, Legion slept curled up on a recliner.
Primitive satisfaction rocked him. A sensation he’d never before enjoyed. His woman was here, within reach, her wildflower scent tantalizing him. Let this never end.
The scabs in his shoulder pulled as he reached for the cell phone on his nightstand. He teed up Aeron’s number and texted: Just a head’s up. I’ve got my girl. She’s well thanks to me. Hades would have let her get jacked. You’re welcome.
Aeron’s response came in minutes: H told me you saved her. For that, you do have my thanks. But you’re going to have internal body bling if you don’t return her to me ASAP.